


Blue Shadows

by Halcyon_Morpho_Menelaus



Category: Free!
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Haru's POV, Heavy Angst, Living in Tokyo, M/M, Mild Angst, Shared apartment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-06
Updated: 2014-11-06
Packaged: 2018-02-24 07:57:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2574053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halcyon_Morpho_Menelaus/pseuds/Halcyon_Morpho_Menelaus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haru plans the entire day for Makoto's birthday, but when the day comes they get rained out and must cancel everything. They decide to go home and spend the rest of the day cuddling in bed, all the while Haru contemplates his and Makoto's relationship, their feelings for each other, and mostly, their future together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Shadows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Akakai1412](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akakai1412/gifts).



> I really hope this is OK (and not too long) and that you enjoy it! It was certainly enjoyable to write!
> 
> Prompt: Makoto and Haru plans to go on a date on Makoto's birthday, but when the day comes there's bad weather outside. Makoto and Haru spends the day cuddling in Haru's room instead. Fluff/Romance.

            He hated planning.

            He had _always_ hated planning, because it seemed like no matter how hard he tried, something always went wrong. Ever since he was a child, Haru could spend days planning out every last meticulous detail he could think of, only for it come crashing down at the final hour.  Eventually, he managed to come to terms with his aversion to planning, and chose to think of it as an inconvenient, but endearing, quirk that he simply never made any effort to get rid of. Some people were always five minutes late, some people always ate all the free samples at the mall without every buying the product, and some people refused to plan for fear of failing. Haru had made peace with this aspect of himself, but every now and again something happened that made his consistent bad luck in that field grate on his every last nerve.  

            “It’s alright, Haru, I’m sure we can just reschedule it for another day.”

            Haru stared at Makoto’s smiling face, unable and unwilling to hide the flat disappointment on his own. It was not _alright,_ and Makoto’s insistence that it was made Haru feel even more miserable. He would have felt better if Makoto had simply been upset with him.

            “Really, Haru,” Makoto continued, gripping Haru’s hand tighter, “Today was fantastic! I loved every bit of it.”

            For fear he might just collapse in a fit of self-reproach, Haru turned away from Makoto’s reassuring gaze. He stared balefully out at the rain pouring down onto Tokyo’s side streets. Cars with hazard lights flashing moved along the roads tentatively, while pedestrians jogged to get out of the rain as quickly as the slick roads would allow. He and Makoto stood close together under a bus stop overhang, huddling together in the corner to remedy the chill that bit through their light jackets and cotton shirts.

            Haru only looked away when a small, yellow bus happily flashing the words _Tokyo DisneySea!_ in bright, orange lettering lumbered its way towards their stop. _We should be getting on that bus,_ Haru thought bitterly, _instead we’re going to wait another twenty minutes in this cold all because_ I couldn’t check the weather.

            No one could deny that Haru had tried his absolute best to make Makoto’s birthday as special as he could. Not only had he completely planned out everything he wanted to do for his birthday two weeks prior, he had called everyone they knew to ask if they would go along with his ideas.

            Haru had called and asked the Tachibanas’ if instead of giving Makoto his usual family birthday dinner, they would not mind making it into a birthday breakfast instead. The twins had huffed about wanting to spend more time with their brother, but a few gentle words from their mother had quieted them down. Once he had gotten their permission, Haru had called all of their friends and told them to catch early trains into Tokyo so they could all spend the afternoon together at the fall festival in the heart of the city. Then at 6:00 _sharp_ (as he reminded Nagisa multiple times), he and Makoto would leave and go to an evening light show at the water park just outside Tokyo. They would go to the show, watch dolphins and orcas do acrobatic routines underneath strobe lights to the sound of Beyonce music. It was going to be the highlight of the day – of _Makoto’s_ day – and he was determined to make it so.

            It would have been perfect, and the day _had_ gone perfectly, all the way up until noon. Like something out of an apocalypse movie, everyone’s phone had gone off almost simultaneously. They had all received a weather advisory notification through a mass text message that upgraded to a weather warning only five minutes later. A storm was on its way to the city. Their friends barely had time to profusely apologize for leaving early before they ran to catch the last trains back home.

            Everything had been going so well, and when Makoto had asked Haru why he seemed particularly upset about the advisory he had to admit to the rest of his plans being effectively ruined.

Haru sighed plaintively as he watched the bus trudge away.

            Thankfully, his initial prediction of twenty minutes was wrong. After only ten minutes of shuffling around and blowing hot air into their cupped fingers, another bus came along. Once they boarded, Haru used the cold as an excuse to position himself as close to Makoto’s side as he could.

            The ride home was silent and warm, and Haru used the opportunity to rest and think on what he and Makoto would do for the remainder of the day. He had been secretly counting on certain, important things – _a kiss, for one_ – to happen at the water park, and he wondered how he could recreate those expected scenarios.

            Haru imagined that at some point, with the smell of salt water in the air and flickering lights in the sky, Makoto would turn and give him a smile that let Haru know he had done well. It would not be his usual, default, polite smile, Haru had reasoned to himself. After working through issues in their relationship a year ago in high school, Haru was worried about not properly paying attention to Makoto’s feelings and always second-guessing himself. Whenever he did something for the other he caught himself wondering, was Makoto really happy, or just content? Was he content, or just being amicable? Was he being amicable, or did he hate it? Haru thought he knew Makoto’s different moods as well as his own, but as time went on he found himself craving confirmation beyond what he had always taken for intuition.            

            By the time they reached home, Haru still had not come up with a reasonable answer to his dilemma. They kicked off their shoes once they entered the modest, cleanly abode.

            Makoto stretched, letting out a small yawn and Haru immediately felt himself tense up. “If you want,” he started quickly. “We can still watch some movies. We have some mackerel flavored popcorn in the—“

            “ _Actually,_ ” Makoto interrupted gently, “Thank you,but you don’t have to make anything, really.”

            Haru frowned slightly at Makoto’s attempts to soothe him, but before he could speak Makoto continued on more conversationally. “Could we just sit for a bit, and look at the city out the window in your room? I know it’s raining but we haven’t done it in a while, and I think it would be nice.” He gave a quick, abashed smile, “I’m also a little tired.”

            Haru raised a brow in mild surprise before nodding and moving forward to take Makoto’s hand. He felt like he needed to maintain some semblance of taking care of things, even if it was just leading Makoto through the narrow, shadowed halls of their small apartment.

            Each of them technically had their own bedroom, but they never slept separately. They chose whose room to sleep in for the night indiscriminately, but since Haru’s was the only one with a nice view of the cityscape they slept in his more often.

            When he opened the door to his room, Haru was immediately struck with a bright light that flooded the room through the open curtains. A twin bed was pushed into the far corner of the room opposite the window. A few textbooks, loose papers, and a few random articles of clothing were the only things cluttering an otherwise perfect floor. Some of Haru’s paintings and a few of Makoto’s posters dotted the walls, their normally vibrant colors dulled to dark blues and blacks in the greying light.

            Haru briefly considered taking off his jeans, but he suspected Makoto might be a bit exasperated with lying next to him while he was in his jammers, so he opted against it.

            Makoto pulled back the covers and settled himself closer to the edge of the bed, his back propped against the wall. He lifted his hands to invite Haru to climb over him. As he moved over him, Makoto reached up and lightly touched his upper arm and hip. It was a brief, careless gesture meant to steady and help him, but as he shifted Haru felt Makoto’s hand slide lower and hold on to stretch of exposed skin above the band of his jeans. He resolutely ignored the hypersensitivity he suddenly felt, and let Makoto help him roll all the way over.

            They both shifted the covers until Haru was able to slide in beside Makoto. The sheets felt cool to the touch, but they were pleasantly offset by Makoto’s warmth. The brunette pulled Haru to his side, and he laid his head against Makoto’s broad chest. Makoto’s arm was wrapped comfortably around his torso while his other hand petted the same small stretch of skin at Haru’s waist with short, comforting strokes.

            They lay together quietly, letting the increasing fury of the approaching storm fill up the silence of the room. The sound of car alarms, sirens and general traffic were overlaid by the sound raindrops battering against the window and the rattling railings from nearby outdoor balconies. Haru didn’t mind the white noise, but he knew Makoto wasn’t one for long stretches of silence. He tried to distract himself by running his fingertips in vague, curling patterns across the top of Makoto’s chest.

            “Is this alright then?” Haru asked suddenly, immediately irritated at the uncharacteristic nervousness that colored his voice.

            “This is perfect, Haru.” The arm around him tightened briefly, “I’d have been fine if we had just done this all day, to be honest.”

            Haru looked up to see if Makoto was just being polite, but the brunette was not looking at him. His gentle gaze was focused on the black Tokyo skyline outlined by the sky’s shinning grey light. Haru’s eyes flickered towards the window, but immediately returned to studying what he could see of Makoto’s face. The shadows of the raindrops running down the windowpane seemed particularly stark as they rolled down Makoto’s pale skin onto Haru’s own fingers.

            “It’s not a lot,” Haru whispered, chasing a raindrop shadow from Makoto’s neck to the center of his chest with a fingertip.

            Makoto let out a questioning hum.

            “I mean,” Haru shifted, sitting up slightly, “Are you happy with this simple thing? You don’t want me to get your presents or anything? Or make you something?”

            “ _Haru, please._ ” Makoto laughed softly, but the sound was deep and loud against Haru’s ear. “Why are you so stressed? Are…do you not like this? We can—“

            “I want to make sure _you_ like this!” Haru briefly put his hand over his mouth, embarrassed at how loud and angry he sounded. He immediately lowered it, trying to amend the situation as best as he could. “I… I want you to be happy.” _I want_ you _to be happy, all the time, really, and I’m worried I don’t automatically know how to do that anymore._ “I want this to be about you, Makoto. I just need to know that you’re happy. That’s all.”

            There was silence as Makoto stared at him, and Haru expected Makoto to push him away, or worse, become irritated with him, at any second.

            It didn’t happen.

“What if I promise I’m okay, then? I could make an official vow, if you like, to always tell you when I’m upset or worried or anything other than fine. Would that be alright?”

            Haru couldn’t hear the usual, humoring smile in his voice, but the lightheartedness of his tone let him know Makoto was only half-teasing him.

            “I don’t know,” Haru replied solemnly, “You’re also so wishy-washy and optimistic about everything – I wonder if you can even _tell_ when _you’re_ upset.”

            “What? No, I’m not!”

            “You are.”

            Are _not_ ,” Makoto gently pinched the skin he had been stroking, and Haru retaliated playfully, kicking his legs (lightly, of course). To avoid things escalating into a huge play fight, Haru pressed himself tightly to Makoto, drawing his legs up and throwing his arm over the other’s chest.

            They stayed like that for the rest of the day and, catching up on each other’s lives. Neither felt like moving, except to lean in closer while speaking, laughing at the feeling of cold breath across their skin. The words they shared with each other in the dying light were like trickling streams of sound only disturbed by an occasional laugh or unfiltered giggles.

            As the white light outside darkened to black and the shadows around them disappeared, Haru found himself lying half on top of Makoto’s torso with the brunette’s shallow breaths ruffling his hair. Makoto had both of his arms tightly wrapped around Haru’s middle, with his hands tracing even larger patterns across the full expanse of Haru’s lower back. The movements were measured and chaste, and though Haru couldn’t tell if he was disappointed at that or not, he found the movements comforting all the same.

            He wondered if _he_ was comforting to Makoto. Haru himself was quiet, more than a little moody, more than a little defensive, and he had spent so much time around people who simply _knew_ how he felt he often forgot just how important it was to verbally communicate that in the event they did not understand him. It was only ever in moments like this, when they were away from everyone and Makoto didn’t feel the need to fill the silence.

            Did Makoto relax whenever Haru entered the room? Did he trust Haru to take care of him however he could? Did he like to be next to him and hold his hand even when he wasn’t scared about something silly or harmless? Did he feel at ease, at peace, or understood? Did he feel safe with him?

_Am I the kind of person he needs?_

            He had no answer, but the soft murmuring of his name abruptly pulled him from his thoughts. From his position, Haru couldn’t look up, and wouldn’t have been able to see anything even if he could. He lightly rapped his fingers against Makoto’s chest to let the other know he was listening.

            “I know organizing today must have been hard for you,” Makoto began, “getting everyone together, getting the tickets, arranging transportation—“

            Hary snorted indignantly, offended at the assumption that he could not handle things for _one_ day. It was certainly true, and Haru had been berating himself about it all day, but it wasn’t like Haru had _told_ Makoto that, so how dare he assume so.

            “I didn’t mean it like _that,_ ” Makoto amended, the laugh in his voice telling Haru he meant it _exactly_ like that. “I just know you’re unused to that kind of thing, so I wanted to say thank you. I really do appreciate it. It means… _you_ mean a lot to me, Haru, and I’m glad…” Makoto’s fingers stopped drawing on Haru’s skin as he hesitated, trying to find the words to finish.

            Haru sat up, unable to see anything but still searching in the darkness for a trace of Makoto’s face.

            “…I’m glad you’re with me. I’m happy you’re with me. I really…I do love you, Haru. I love being here with you, and I want you to stay here—” he suddenly faltered, breaking down in embarrassment, but Haru did not mind.

            Haru reached up and tried to brush his fingers along what he hoped to be the side of Makoto’s face. He was a bit too far to the left, so he dragged his fingers over until he could trace the outline of Makoto’s face. He stilled under his touch, and Haru took the opportunity to explore all of Makoto’s features. He caressed his forehead, eyelids, nose and lips before outlining the latter more firmly.

            Unhindered, Haru soundlessly breathed the words, “I love you,” and pressed them onto Makoto’s mouth, sealing them. Haru ran his fingers across Makoto’s check, down his neck, and did not stop until he laced his fingers through the locks at the base of the brunette’s head. He cupped the back of Makoto’s head and pulled him closer before tilting his head to the side to deepen the kiss. Haru felt one of Makoto’s hands take him by the waist to shift him to the side so he was no longer resting on Makoto’s arm. Once free, Makoto gripped Haru by his hips and pulled him over so he could lie on top of him completely. Haru shifted his upper weight to one arm so he wouldn’t crush Makoto, but still held on to the other’s short locks of hair under his palms.

            They remained like that for a while longer. Their quiet kisses and sporadic movements not colored with heat or anxiousness. They did not tug each others’ clothes or move their hands anywhere particularly intimate, and their occasional gasps came from a lack of air rather than desperation. Instead, they continued touching each other as delicately as they could. Their warm, blind kisses were only interrupted by small laughs and smiles whenever the dark caused them to miss their mark. The rain that had once sounded so thunderous seemed dull and muted compared to the sound of their skin on the sheets, quiet breaths and the amount of concentration Haru was putting into making sure Makoto felt as nice as he did. 

            Every kiss was reassurance, every tug on his hair a promise, and every word he breathed into Makoto’s skin meant more than Haru could have expressed. He could not help but hope a little desperately that Makoto could understand all his feelings just as easily as he always had before. He wanted Makoto to just _know,_ and if he could not, well, that was something for Haru to work towards. He would whisper as many loving words in as many languages that existed if it allowed him to burn into Makoto’s heart the magnitude and urgency with which he felt that love.

            When Makoto broke away from him to murmur those three words back to him, Haru made as firm a plan as he could. Though a part of him still preferred it, he would not rely so heavily on intuition and guesswork if it hindered their ability to fully understand each other. He could not rely on either of them assuming things any longer – he needed to _know,_ and he needed Makoto to _know._

No matter how many months, years, or decades it took, he would work to make sure their words could flow between each other as easily as their feelings. He would prove his love and prove himself worthy of Makoto’s, and no matter how well that plan worked out, well, he wouldn’t regret making it.

.   

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, I was pretty worried about this not being fluffy enough (Is it? Fluffy enough?) One of your other requests specifically asked for kisses and cuddles so I assumed you wouldn't really mind me throwing in some here? Thank you for reading!


End file.
